SNOWED UP.
“I never in my life was so overjoyed to see men disappointed,”
whispered Eugene. “They’ve had all their trouble for nothing, and I am
glad of it.”
“Be careful,” replied Archie, earnestly. “Don’t say that again; for if
they should chance to overhear you I don’t know what they would do.
They are perfectly desperate.”
For two or three minutes the hunters stood like statues looking at
one another, and then they made the cliffs echo with horrible yells
and imprecations. Their rage was perfectly ungovernable and the boys
trembled in fear of the result. Zack’s first move was to demolish
the machine, which he did most completely with one kick of his foot,
sending the wheels and weights in every direction. Then he and
Silas jumped into the wagons, which they proceeded to overhaul most
thoroughly. Not the smallest article escaped close examination. Clothes
were ripped up, in the hope of finding something hidden away in the
seams; the one bed the family possessed was torn open and its contents
scattered far and wide; skillets and frying-pans were sounded, as if
the hunters expected to find some hidden compartments in them, and
then smashed into atoms on the boulders; and in five minutes’ time
the emigrant had not a single whole article of furniture, bedding or
clothing left. The boys looked on with great indignation, but were
powerless to stop the wanton destruction. It would have been dangerous
even to remonstrate with the enraged men.
“I say, fellows, just cast your eyes toward Simon,” whispered Archie,
suddenly.
The boys looked, and told themselves that some things which they had
not been able to understand, were perfectly clear to them now. They
had discovered another guilty man, and one whom nobody had suspected.
If Simon Cool was not as much interested in finding the treasure as
the hunters were, and if he was not as keenly disappointed to learn
that the contents of the black trunk which the old man had watched so
closely, were an invention of some kind, instead of a million dollars
in gold, his face belied him.
“Do you know now how we were disarmed that night?” whispered Archie.
“I believe I do,” replied Fred, “and I shouldn’t wonder if the scamp
was about to get himself into trouble. I certainly hope so. See how
Zack and Silas scowl at him.”
“If I thought you had fooled us a purpose, Simon, you’d never fool
nobody else, I bet you,” said Zack, in savage tones.
Simon glanced around with a frightened look, and saw that everybody had
heard what the hunter said to him. Even the old man raised his head and
listened.
“O, you needn’t try to play off on us that way,” exclaimed Silas.
“You’re as deep in the mud as we are, every bit. You told us that the
ole man was wuth a million dollars—an’ he’s the lad who stole your
we’pons from you while you was asleep,” he added, nodding to our heroes.
“We thought so,” answered Archie.
“Now if thar’s any yaller boys about here, whar are they?” demanded
Zack.
“I don’t know,” replied Simon, who saw that he could not conceal his
real character any longer. “Everything the ole man’s got was in that
black chist. He told me so, an’ said he wouldn’t take a silver-mine fur
it!”
The hunters looked keenly at Simon, and the expression on his face,
rather than the words he had uttered, satisfied them that he had
told the truth. The feelings of rage and disappointment which showed
themselves in his countenance were genuine, and could not have been
assumed.
“Wal, you an’ the ole man atween you have got us into a scrape, an’ we
hain’t made nothing by it,” said Zack, at length. “Thar hain’t none
of us made nothing, I reckon,” he added, glancing at the ruins of the
Pike’s furniture. “Now we want all of you to stay here till we’re safe
out of the way; an’ to make sure of your stayin’——”
Here Zack raised his rifle and shot one of the oxen dead in the yoke.
Silas shot the other and then the mules, and thus the emigrant and
his family were left almost as helpless as they would have been had
they been cast away on some desert island in the middle of the ocean.
The hunters then led their horses to the place where the boys were
standing, and Zack began untying his blankets, which were fastened in a
bundle behind his saddle. Addressing himself to Archie, he said:
“A fair exchange hain’t no robbery, they say, so give me them blue
ones o’ yourn, an’ I’ll give you mine. We hain’t goin’ away without
something, I bet you.”
“I think you’ve got something already,” said Fred. “You’ve got a rifle
worth forty-five dollars, and a horse and saddle that cost almost a
hundred more.”
“But we didn’t get the million dollars, so hand out them blankets!”
“An’ I’ll trade with _you_,” said Silas, nodding to Fred.
Without another word of remonstrance the boys rolled up their clean,
warm blankets, just as good now as the day they were purchased in San
Francisco, in spite of the service they had seen, and handed them to
the hunters, who gave them their own tattered and dirty army blankets
in return. Although the boys could hardly bring themselves to touch
them they did not refuse to take them, for they knew they would need
them. The weather was cold, and it had been growing colder ever since
they left the prairie. The wind came up the gorge in fitful gusts,
whistling mournfully through the branches of the evergreens above their
heads, and now and then the air was filled with flakes of snow. The
storm which Dick Lewis had so confidently predicted had fairly set
in, and some covering, besides the clothing they wore, was absolutely
necessary.
“Now whar’s the cartridges fur these we’pons?” said Silas.
“We haven’t any,” replied Fred and Eugene; and to prove it they turned
their pockets inside out.
“Didn’t you bring more’n one load with you?”
“One magazine full, you mean,” said Eugene. “Isn’t that enough? There
were sixteen shots in one and fourteen in the other when we gave them
to you—or rather when you took them. When those loads are gone you’ll
have to skirmish around and find more.”
“An’ whar’s the ammunition fur these?” said Simon Cool, who now came up
with a brace of revolvers buckled about his waist and carrying Archie’s
Maynard in his hands.
“Ah! you’ve got my rifle, have you?” said Archie. “I wondered what had
become of it. There’s a load in it, and much good may it do you. I
haven’t any more to give you.”
It was perhaps fortunate for our heroes that the men did not ask any
more questions about the ammunition. Fred and Eugene had thrown away
their cartridges during the first night’s march, declaring that if the
hunters were going to steal their rifles, they needn’t think they would
get powder and bullets for nothing. Archie, however, who had not seen
anything of his Maynard, and believed that it had been hidden somewhere
near the camp, kept his cartridges, but when Zack and Silas overhauled
the wagons, his rifle was thrown out with the rest of the things, and
then Archie pulled out his ammunition and dropped it behind the boulder
on which he was sitting.
“You can’t get anything to shoot in that rifle in this country,” said
Archie, “and since it is of no use to you, hadn’t you better give it
back to me? I have owned it a long time and don’t like to part with it.”
“I reckon I’ll keep it,” said Simon, in reply. “I reckon me an’ my
pardners can use it.”
“Who’s your pardners?” demanded Zack, quickly. “Not me an’ Sile, I can
tell you, fur you hain’t goin’ a step with us—not one step.”
This showed that there had been some sort of an agreement between Simon
and the hunters. No doubt when the million dollars were secured, they
were to share it equally and travel in company.
“If you’ll fool us once you’ll do it agin; so we don’t want nothing
more to do with you,” said Silas. “You can go your trail an’ we’ll go
our’n.”
“But I don’t know whar to go,” said Simon, who was utterly confounded;
“an’ I can’t stay here.”
“No, you can’t stay here,” said the old man. “When you were tramping
about the country begging your living, I took you in and cared for you,
and now you have turned against me! You can’t stay here.”
“This yer’s a big country, an’ thar’s plenty of room in it fur all of
us,” said Zack.
With this piece of information the hunters mounted their horses and
rode down the gully out of sight. Simon Cool stood motionless and
silent for a moment, gazing fixedly at the ground, and then shouldering
Archie’s Maynard, he moved slowly away in the same direction and also
disappeared. Bad as their situation was, the boys told themselves that
Simon’s was infinitely worse. They knew where to go to find friends
and shelter; but Simon was turned adrift in a strange country, in the
face of a blinding snow-storm, without a horse or blanket, and with
only one load in his rifle to bring him subsistence. If that load
failed him he would be in a predicament indeed, for his revolvers would
be next to useless in hunting. They were intended only for short-range
shooting, and such game as he would fall in with—if he was fortunate
enough to fall in with any—would be wary and hard to approach, and
could only be reached by a long-range rifle. It was at least one
hundred and twenty-five miles to the Fort, and that was the nearest
place at which Simon could procure food.
As soon as Simon was out of sight, Archie, who knew that there was
nothing to be gained by sitting still and mourning over their hard
fate, jumped to his feet and began to stir around. He set to work to
gather up all the wheels and weights that had been scattered about
when Zack demolished the machine that had been found in the trunk. His
companions joined him in the search, and finally the Pike himself
mustered up energy enough to lend his assistance. His wife and son sat
still and stared at the ruins of their furniture.
“Is this contrivance of yours, whatever it is, patented?” asked Archie,
who thought the old man might be induced to cheer up a little if he
could be engaged in conversation.
“Not yet,” was the answer.
“What do you intend to do with it?”
“I was going to use it to run my quartz-mill.”
“O, this is only a model, then!”
“Yes. I accidentally found a rich gold-mine while I was in California,
two years ago, but it could not be developed, because there was no
power there to run a mill. It would have cost a fortune to sink wells
through the rock and bring a steam-engine over the mountains from
Placer city; but this invention of mine could have been put up in
a week or ten days, and would have furnished power enough to run a
dozen mills. Just think of it! I should have had that gold-mine all to
myself, and there is no telling how rich it is. Why, you can see the
veins in the rock as thick as your finger. I am now sixty-five years
old, and I have worked at this invention ever since I was twenty. I got
it done just at the right time, too, and now I must lose all my work.”
“Perhaps not. The machinery is all here, and can be put together again.
It doesn’t look as if it were damaged at all. What motive-power are you
going to use—steam or water?”
“Nary one. The invention furnishes its own power.”
It was wonderful what a change these few words made in the boys’
feelings towards the old man. The wheels and weights, which they had
before handled so carefully, were bundled promiscuously together and
thrown into one of the wagons. They had no more time to waste with
the machine or with the inventor, either. A man who could squander
forty-five years of the one life he had to live, in studying perpetual
motion, was not just the sort of person they wanted to associate with
in an emergency like the present.
“Let the machine go,” whispered Eugene. “It isn’t worth the trouble it
has caused us. Let’s tell the old fellow that we’re going to start for
the Fort, and that if he wants to go with us, he had better be getting
ready.”
Archie, who was always expected to speak for his companions,
accordingly informed the Pike that it was high time they were making a
move in some direction, unless they wanted to stay there and be snowed
up; told him that he and his friends proposed making an immediate start
for the Fort, and asked him if he wished to accompany them. The old man
said he did, but he had no suggestions to make, and indeed seemed to
take but little interest in the matter. He was too busy trying to put
his machine together again. The boys, in great disgust, turned from him
to his wife, who, as Featherweight afterward declared, was the only man
in the family. The Pike himself was plainly crazy, and Reuben was as
stupid as a block.
“Mrs. Holmes, we don’t want to stay here and freeze,” said Archie, “so
we’re going to try to reach Fort Bolton. We shall find friends there.
It is a long journey to make on foot, but of course you would rather
attempt it than stay here alone.”
“In course I would,” said the woman.
“Then I suggest that we cut up one of these oxen, and that you cook
as much of the meat as we can carry. We’ll build you a good fire, and
while you are at work, we’ll bundle up the best of these quilts and
blankets, and put the rest of your baggage in the wagons. It will then
be protected from the weather, and you will know where to find it in
case you should ever want to come after it. But we have no time to
waste. We ought to make at least eight or ten miles on our way before
dark.”
“You, Rube,” exclaimed the woman, suddenly, “get up an’ go to work.
Your pop’s machine is played out, our million dollars is up stump, an’
we bein’ poor people agin, you’ve got to scratch with the rest of us.
Git up; you’ve been settin’ thar like a lump on a log long enough.”
These words seemed to put a little life into Reuben. He found a knife
and went to work at one of the oxen; Fred and Archie gathered a supply
of wood and started a fire; while Eugene employed himself in tying up
the quilts and blankets. Everybody was busy except the old man, who was
still wasting his time with his machine.
While the boys were at work they found opportunity, now and then, to
glance up at the threatening clouds above them, and they shivered
involuntarily and looked askance at one another when they thought of
the long journey before them. It was evident that a furious storm was
raging, although they did not feel it, being securely sheltered by
the cliffs. But little snow fell where they were, the gale carrying
it across the gorge above their heads; but when it came down to them,
as it did now and then, when brought by an eddying wind, it fell in a
blinding shower, and gave them some idea of what must be the state of
affairs on the exposed prairie.
After two hours’ hard work, Archie announced that they were ready
to begin their journey. The Pike’s wife had cooked a supply of meat
sufficient to last three or four days, and they had also been able
to save from the wreck enough corn-meal and flour to make about half
a bushel of “slap-jacks,” which had been baked before the fire on
heated stones. Although the old man seemed to be very much interested
in his work, he kept an eye on all that was going on, and when he saw
that preparations for the start were being made, he packed his machine
carefully away in a blanket which he had selected for the purpose,
shouldered the bundle Archie pointed out to him and marched cheerfully
off with the others. He began to act more like himself now. He had
discovered that a few hours’ work would make his machine just as good
as it was before.
Archie, who was leading the way, had not gone many rods before he told
himself that their attempt to reach the Fort was certain to prove a
failure. He knew that the storm was a hard one, but he had only a faint
idea of its fury until he had fairly left the shelter of the cliffs.
In the first gully they entered the snow covered the ground to the
depth of three or four inches, and in some places had been whirled
into drifts that reached almost to the tops of his boots. The main
gully—the one that led to the valley in which the wild horse had been
captured—was even worse. If the storm continued twenty-four hours
longer, it would be quite impassable. They kept bravely on, carrying
the crying children by turns and shifting their heavy bundles from one
shoulder to the other, until they came within sight of the prairie, and
there they stopped. It was folly to think of going farther.
Fred and Eugene were appalled at the sight presented to their gaze, and
Archie, who had witnessed many a New England snow-storm, declared that
he had never seen anything like it. They could not see twenty yards in
any direction, except down the gully from which they had just emerged.
Everything was concealed by the drifting snow. The wind blew a gale,
and the boys could not face it for a moment. Fred and Eugene shielded
their eyes with their arms and looked at Archie to see what he thought
about it.
“I am afraid to try it,” said the former. “The snow cuts like a knife.
I never saw anything like this in Louisiana. I am so cold already that
I can scarcely talk.”
“We can’t try it,” said Archie; “it is out of the question. We could
not go a quarter of a mile against this wind to save our lives.
Besides, just as soon as we got out of sight of the mountains, which
would be in less than two minutes, we should lose our way and that
would be the last of us. We must go back and wait until the storm is
over.”
Upon hearing this decision, Fred and Eugene quickly retreated to
the gully, where the Pike and his family had already taken refuge,
while Archie followed more leisurely, glancing back at the prairie
occasionally, looking up at the clouds, as if trying to judge of the
probable duration of the storm, and then fastening his eyes on the
ground, as if revolving some problem in his mind.
“We’re snowed up,” said he, when he joined his companions again. “I was
afraid of it, but it is nothing we can help, so we must make the best
of it. We must go back to the wagons. That is the most sheltered spot
I know of. Hadn’t you better go ahead and build up the fire?” he added,
turning to the Pike, who was shaking like a man with the ague. “Your
children will perish if you keep them out here. We will follow you as
soon as we leave something to guide our friends, who will be certain to
hunt us up in a few days.”